Vladislav Delay "Whistleblower"

The Basic Channel / Chain Reaction strain of dub, as filtered through a haze of drugs, was the fulfillment of the promises of ambient house and its offshoots, and also its ultimate subversion. The Orb's massive "Blue Room" on U.F.Orb may have set heads nodding, but was too spacey to inspire dancing. It was perfect for the chill-out room. Ambient dub was born, its mantle to be picked up by artists like Porter Ricks, Monolake, and, most successfully, Vladislav Delay. Mutila, collecting early 12-inchers hinted at what Delay would become: a master of twenty-first century ambient dub, pushing the genre with each release. Later albums Ele, Entain, even Anima, are all epics perfect for the late-night comedown. But the music on Whistleblower inaugurates a new era for VD, one where fights finally break out in the chill-out room.

The Rorschach-blot cover art invites open interpretations, but the title and the sonics within indicate a deep sense of unease, fear, and violence in VD's muse, filtered through the spectrum of current geopolitical events. This is unavoidable at a time of near-complete global unrest, that artists stop internalizing the outside world and reflect it. So make no mistake -- Whistleblower is a violent record, a furious howl into the wind of the dancefloor. This is not VD's break/speed-core record though, it is a logical progression from The Four Quarters, and still in the "prog-space-dub" vein. As such, the familiar broken beats and sublime bass are still there, but overlaid with abrupt, startling noises. Underneath the surface ambience, Blue Velvet-like, lay aggression, unrest, and disorder.

Each track contains so much action that its like getting two albums worth in one sitting. Delay, always a detailed composer, pours himself into his gear, coming out the other side with songs that hit below the belt. The aggressive clanking and buzzing, the rattling chain-gun percussion, and the controlled feedback of "Whistleblower" all add up to an unsteady, stumbling beast of a track, barely-restrained percussive violence around every corner. "Stop Talking" sounds like a bomb ticking down and some lost soul banging on the bars of a jail cell. Sounds whip around the spectrum, sounding like punches landing on warm meat, followed by involuntary exhalations. "Recovery IDea" closes the album out with a frantic, urgent conversation of percussion, babbling over itself, becoming increasingly confusing and aggressive.

Easily the most oppressive album that Sasu Ripatti has conjured yet, Whistleblower succeeds on all levels: the visceral, and the cerebral. In days now gone, a new VD album might be greeted with a cloud of skunky smoke and an hour on the couch. This, though, won't keep you on the couch for long. It is a call to action, and you must answer.